


Where It Counts

by Harlequinade13



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Jealousy, One-Sided Crush, One-Sided Katsuki Yuuri/Yuri Plisetsky, Rivalry, Skating, Texting, Yurio, Yuuko and Yuri texting, but this is ultimately a story about Yurio, episode 10, lots of pairings if you pay attention, mostly - Freeform, set during season 1, unrequited feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-08 00:12:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8821891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harlequinade13/pseuds/Harlequinade13
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky goes out for a run in Barcelona. 
He doesn't expect to meet Victor where he does.
He doesn't expect a lot of things.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a fanfic where Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuko text each other. After a few more revelations and episode 10, this is the result.
> 
> Yuri yearns.

He was lacing up his shoes for a run when his phone vibrated with a text from Yuuko:

_I know you're going to be busy so I wanted to wish you luck in the Grand Prix!_

There were five hearts after the message and Yuri clicked his tongue in annoyance before he realized there was one for each member of her immediate family. Then he shut down that sentimental crap real quick.

He tapped out a quick response before shoving his phone in his pocket. 

_I don't need luck  
Tell katsuki that instead_

Yuri headed out into the Barcelona morning. Running made him feel a little better, quieted some of the anger racing through him. The scenery blurred to nothing. Yuri pictured standing on the ice with a gold medal around his neck. Fuck silver and bronze— the pork cutlet bowl was on the sidelines next to a disappointed Victor. A Victor who looked to Yuri with dawning realization. JJ the King had been assassinated or something because this was Yuri's perfect world.

He wasn't sure what he wanted Yuuri Katsuki to do exactly. 

He pushed Katsuki out of his mind and pushed himself harder. 

When his phone alerted him again, Yuri slowed down, stopped, and dragged his knuckles across his mouth. He'd run himself harder than he'd intended. Shit. 

Yuri collapsed on a bench, head tipped back while he waited for his heart to get the message that he was resting. His phone vibrated again right where it had bumped a tender spot into his hip. Yuri fished it out, finding two texts from Yuuko on the lock screen. 

_I already told him but sometimes he gets too inside his own head to reply. I know he read it though._

_It's so sweet of you to consider him. Good luck to both of you!_

Yuri tightened his grip on the phone. His jaw ached. He typed some angry nonsense, erased it, started typing 'no fucking way', and deleted that as well. Yuri groaned and leaned his head back against the bench. He wanted to write 'that asshole' in response to the first message but refrained out of respect for her feelings and to urge to avoid a scolding about language. He didn't need another Lilia policing him. 

Instead he just wrote _no_ and hit send. 

 

Yuri had a sudden memory of getting into it with Katsuki in a half-lit rink. He couldn't take more of Katsuki's wide-eyed innocent look— who the fuck was he trying to kid?— and watching him screw up jump after jump grew tiring. 

Yuri stopped skating and glared at Katsuki. He found himself saying, "If you were smart, you'd cut ties with Victor now."

Katsuki looked momentarily confused. "But the competition—"

"Just a formality. Victor's going back to Russia with me."

He waited for Katsuki's reaction but received little and when Katsuki started skating again, slow, eyes downcast in a way that was more pensive than sad, he knew it was over.

"Victor is a shitty person, Yuuri," he tried.

Katsuki skated past him, weaving lazy circles around the rink. "I don't know about that," he murmured, ever non-confrontational. But the fact that he disagreed at all was a sign Yuri had hit a nerve. 

"I mean," Yuri continued, moving into his own circular patterns. "Surely you know about all the scandals he's involved in. He's a playboy who leaves women left and right. What appeal do either of us have?" Yuri believed he could make Victor stay if he were in Russia, find the skater's Russian pride and force it out, form the kind of bond he wanted to have. But he had to beat Katsuki first and since he couldn't affect his skating, he had to shake up his emotional state. 

"I don't care about that," Katsuki said. His back was to Yuri, who watched the sun in his hair when he swept by one of the large windows. Yuri made fists against the impulse to remove his gloves. 

"What?" he asked, across the rink. 

When Katsuki turned to skate the other way, his head was up, gaze in Yuri's direction but not quite on him. His eyes were that bright kind of determined Yuri remembered seeing when Katsuki accepted Eros as his short program. "It doesn't affect our skating," he said. "So what does it matter?"

Yuri scoffed and sped up so his back was to Katsuki. "He's flakey as fuck, that's why it matters."

"I know Victor can be forgetful sometimes," Katsuki relented. "But I think in this instance he's really interested in coaching the winner. I think he'll stay where it counts."

Yuri skidded to a stop and the sound on the ice was moment-shattering like when records stopped in old films. He felt like he'd been punched. His fists came loose at his sides, anger drained away just like that. 

_How dare he just—_

Yuri heard Katsuki stop too. When he spoke there was pure panic in his voice. "Yurio? Oh, crap, I didn't mean—!"

"I hope he chews you up and spits you out, you stupid pig."

In the stunned silence, Yuri skated toward the exit and left. He found a bench, traded his skates for sneakers, and wiped down the blades. By the time, Katsuki came out, he was ready to leave. Katsuki started to mumble something or other at the floor but Yuri walked through the doors without bothering to listen.

 

The sound of the ocean drew him. 

It was a quiet rush of noise, comforting and foreign. A deep, calming blue like an early morning sky. Seagulls flapped overhead, drowned out the ocean and city noise with their cries. Yuri made his way toward the ledge overlooking the beach, fully intending to end his run here and find rest on the low wall and old memories.

Until he spotted Victor fucking Nikiforov.

Victor, a legend in human form, was standing with his hand outstretched toward the horizon, clearly admiring the gold ring on his finger. 

Yuri felt rage so instantaneous he was sick with it.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, marched over to Victor, and kicked him in the back. Victor started at the impact, jolting forward. Yuri half expected him to turn around and look at him with those stupidly bright eyes, like he was only just noticing Yuri standing there with his shoe pressed into the curve of his spine. Before Victor could say something stupid like, "Oh, hey Yurio. Admiring the scenery?" he kicked him again and again until he was sure he'd knocked the breath right out of him.

Victor still had his hand out like some princess. The gold on his finger stood out amid the blue of the sky, of the ocean. 

Yuri paused abruptly in his assault and lowered his foot to the pavement. 

This was not the athlete Yuri once looked up to.

"Victor Nikiforov is dead!" Yuri snarled. 

Victor turned to the side, regarding him with an unreadable expression. Like he wasn't worth his time. Yuri watched the wind play with Victor's scarf, his hair.

Finally Yuri asked, quieter, "Why do you look so happy to be looking after that damn pig?" 

Victor stepped toward him, invading his space. He bent to Yuri's level and the action had an air of condescension that made him grit his teeth. Yuri stood his ground though. 

"Did you want to compete against me?" Victor asked coolly.

"Don't be so full of yourself," Yuri said. _Yes, I did._ "Not all skaters look up to you." _Not anymore._ Yuri narrowed his eyes. "Just go away already, geezer." 

Victor moved, grabbed Yuri under the chin and lifted him to stand at the other's full height. Yuri felt the dig of Victor's fingers in his cheeks, the slight brush of cool metal against his jaw. The way the hand shook was not lost on him.

Yuri steeled his expression even forced nearly onto his toes as he was. He stared unflinchingly into Victor's face, into that assessing, slightly smug expression. Yuri wouldn't give him anything. He didn't deserve shit.

"The ring you got from that pig is garbage," he said. Just to get rid of the smug look. It didn't work. But the tremble in Victor's hold on him did not ease— Victor was struggling. "I'll win just to prove how incompetent his owner is," Yuri declared, awaiting the change in expression. There was none. "Let go of me!" He jerked out of Victor's grasp, stumbling a few steps back before standing straight again. He could feel the cold impressions of fingers on his face, the burn where he'd pulled away. He thought of gold rings— of Otabek and Victor and that Yuuri Katsuki all at once, even Yuuko and what she might say about all of it in that overly concerned way of hers. He wanted to rip the ring off Victor's finger and toss it. 

A barking dog drew Victor's attention away from him. And after a few moments of nothing but watching him stare out into the distance, Yuri decided he had enough. He turned his back on Victor Nikiforov and walked away.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. _Fucking_ fuck, _Yuuko!_

But it gave him pause. He breathed in and out slowly, and called to Victor once more. "This place reminds me of Hasetsu's ocean." The moment felt both relieving and terrifying, like shouting a self-destroying truth into a void.

And then Victor's face softened into a smile. "I thought that too." 

Yuri waited in the lighter silence between them. There was more. And when Victor looked at Yuri head on, he was still smiling. Not the decidedly non-Russian smiles he threw Katsuki's way when he teased him nor the trained, playboy smiles he gave the cameras, his fans, other skaters. This was genuine and with a touch of resignation. This was Yuuri Katsuki's influence. 

"Yurio. We both know I'm not immune to Yuuri's charms," he said. "Are you?" 

Yuri did not respond. 

On his way back to the hotel— walking this time— he pulled out his phone to read the text from Yuuko, something about wanting him and Katsuki to be friends or whatever 'so all five of us can hang out together.' He furrowed his brow trying to figure out what she meant. Yuuko, her husband, and Yuri made three. Plus Katsuki and . . . 

Yuri replied with: _Make no mistake, the gold is mine  
Katsuki can have silver or something_

The time to devote to friendship was over, and a more optimistic part of him added _for now, at least_.

Yuri turned off his phone.

**Author's Note:**

> Yurio refers to Yuuri as 'Katsuki' less out of respect for Japanese culture and more for driving distance between them and because he's annoyed about someone else having his name. He uses Yuuri's given name first (rather than 'Katsuki Yuuri' out of a mixture of cultural habit- which is actually a little better at than him in some ways when he tries-, defiance, and stressing his last name as 'a different Yuri'. So there's the 'Katsuki' Yuri and the 'Plisetsky' Yuri. Just a little insight my thought process for the names. 
> 
> During the flashback with Yuuri, Yurio mentions Victor being a playboy and sleeping with a lot of women. In my headcanon, Victor made sure he was purposefully seen with women to throw off any ideas about him being gay. Both Yurio and Yuuri know Victor is gay. Yurio is purposefully mentioning women here to drive home Victor's unavailability.
> 
> Follow me [ on Tumblr](http://harlequinade-13.tumblr.com/)


End file.
